"How would you go after someone you liked, but who you were sure wouldn't fancy you back?"

Scorpius posed the question to his dorm mate and best friend, Al, near the beginning of their seventh year when they happened to be alone in their room, their other dorm mates all having gone to a meeting of the Wizarding Chess Club.

Al looked thoughtful. But then, he usually did, with those spectacles. They didn't stop him being the Ravenclaw Seeker though, and the best Seeker that Hogwarts had seen since his dad. "Who is it, and why do you think they wouldn't fancy you?"

"I'd rather not say," evaded Scorpius. "Someone older, not in school now." Which was an understatement. "A bloke I've seen at my parents' Christmas parties. With a different partner every year, so it's not like I'd be trying to break up something permanent. All I want is to shag him."

Since Scorpius had told Al two years ago that he was gay, Al didn't bat an eye at the fact that Scorpius's object of desire was another man. "If he isn't in a long-term relationship, why don't you think you have a chance? Too young?"

"That, yeah, plus all the men I've seen him with have looked more like you than me. You know, with a medium build and dark hair, not tall and skinny and pale like I am." Scorpius pushed back his fair hair.

"Hmm. So you just want to get this bloke to have sex with you, right? You don't want anything more long-term?"

"That's right." Scorpius swallowed. "I've been thinking about him for ages."

"Ha, that means for two weeks, with you."

Scorpius didn't correct him. It really had been years since he'd first thought about going to bed with this particular man, but he didn't want Al to have any excuse to inquire again about his identity.

"So this bloke comes to your parents' parties each year, and you say it's always with someone different. But he always comes with someone?" Al asked.

"He seems to," Scorpius agreed.

"That will make it trickier." Al whistled through his teeth. "The problem as I see it breaks down into several parts. First, you'll have to disguise yourself somehow, both because you don't seem to be his physical type, and because you probably don't want him to recognise that you're the Malfoys' son, even if you are of age now. Second, you'll have to find some line of chat that will persuade him to go to bed with you, either right there and then at the party—although presumably in some other room—or at a later time in another place, Finally, you'll probably have to somehow get whoever his current partner is out of the way so as to give yourself a chance to carry out the seduction unimpeded. That's a tall order." He whistled again. "A physical disguise is necessary, but you're also going to have to think up a good cover story. Your parents' parties are probably pretty exclusive, so nearly everyone will know each other."

"I suppose it doesn't have to be," said Scorpius. "But that seemed like the easiest place, since I know the house and could easily get in to the party itself."

"If there are other opportunities..." Al was clearly thinking aloud. "That would help in a couple of respects. You could chat him up at a couple of different parties, flirt with him and leave him wanting to get to know you better, and then make your move. Plus that would give you a chance to find out for sure who his current partner is, and take steps to get him out of the way somehow. The downside would be that you'd have to have a really good story to explain who you were and what you were doing there at all these parties, and you'd have to be willing to disguise yourself repeatedly."

Scorpius mulled it over. "I suppose I could find out when some of my parents' friends' Christmas parties are, and crash those." He narrowly avoided saying the name of the man. "He would be there, too. And I was thinking Polyjuice for the disguise. I remember that story you told me that you said your dad told you, about how he and your uncle Ron fooled my dad once, and then there was that fellow who pretended to be Auror Moody for nearly a whole year before he was found out."

"Polyjuice should do the trick," Al agreed. "You'll have to decide whose hair or whatever to use, though, and be sure to have enough of it."

"How about yours?" asked Scorpius.

Al blinked. "Mine?"

"Sure. You're physically the type he likes, from what I can tell. Maybe on the young side, but expression can do a lot with that."

"Wouldn't he recognise me?" Al protested. "Everyone says I look just like my dad, and his is not exactly an unknown face."

"I think Algie would be good," said Al. Algernon Longbottom was another of their roommates, who played as one of the Ravenclaw Beaters. "He has dark hair, too, and he's more muscular than me, and less young-looking. You could take some hairs out of his brush."

Scorpius considered it. Algie did look older than Al, and Scorpius wouldn't mind borrowing Algie's appearance, he supposed. "Yeah, I don't think he would be likely to recognise Algie. The Longbottoms don't move in my parents' social circle. So that could work."

"Then you'd better start brewing the Polyjuice Potion. It takes a month, remember, since you have to pick the fluxweed at the full moon."

"I know, I know." They had had to brew a batch in fifth year. Scorpius remembered with distaste drinking the nasty stuff. That was the down side of using it, but the result should be worth the trouble, if Scorpius succeeded anyhow. "I'll start tonight. I have plenty of lacewing flies to begin with."

"Want some help?"

"Sure. You can help me think up a good cover story, too. If I have it all worked out well ahead of time, I can rehearse it enough that I won't slip up when the time comes."

By the end of September, Scorpius had concocted a story about being a distant cousin of the Lovegoods. He picked them in case someone noticed a family resemblance, since Algie's mum had been a Lovegood, and decided he was from a branch of the family that had emigrated to Canada in the nineteenth century. He chose the name Sebastian Marbot as his alias. He would pretend to have come over to England for an apprenticeship in manufacturing and repairing magical equipment.

"You'll need to practise a Canadian accent," Al pointed out one evening when they were checking on the progress of the Polyjuice Potion.

"But there's no one at Hogwarts from Canada," said Scorpius, giving the cauldron a final stir. "How am I going to manage that?"

"Get some films or something." Al said it in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Films? You mean like Muggle films?"

"Yes. In Muggle Studies we've learned how to use computers and the internet. Muggles sell all kinds of stuff online; you just put in the order and a credit card number, and they ship it right to you. Professor Kirke taught us how we can Confund their systems so that if you have an account with Gringotts, the company will be paid by them without alerting the Muggle banks. I haven't figured out exactly how it works, but it does. So all you have to do is find an online shop that sells films, and check to make sure that they're Canadian. There's even a Muggle DVD-playing machine in that classroom and I book some time in there, an evening or two a week," Al finished breathlessly.

Al's knowledge impressed Scorpius. "Show me how to find these films."

The computer was not too difficult to master, he discovered. He hadn't taken Muggle Studies because he knew his parents would disapprove, but now he rather regretted that decision as he was sure he could easily have earned an "E" in both O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in that subject. Al showed him several websites that sold films on DVD, and he was able with little trouble to find half a dozen that were Canadian.

He didn't find the films terribly interesting as films, which was probably just as well. He watched simply to pick up the accent, which he then practised on Al whenever the two of them were alone.

"Yes it will," said Al. "Surely you aren't going to give up this easily? I thought you said you really fancied this bloke, whoever he is."

"I do, I do. All right, I'll keep working on it."

Scorpius hadn't missed the hints that Al had given that he would like to know just who it was Scorpius was going after. And had it been—well, just about anyone else, really, than who it was—Scorpius might well have eventually given and told him.

Not even to his best friend was he prepared to admit that the man he planned to seduce was his own father.

There were Muggle laws against incest, he knew, but he had done some discreet reading in both the Hogwarts library and the library at Malfoy Manor itself, which was well-stocked with Wizarding legal tomes. As far as he could tell, there was no prohibition in the Wizarding world—no legal one, at any rate, although it was not exactly customary to consider it an acceptable practise, either.

He wasn't certain whether it would bother his father or not. Since Scorpius had realised that he wasn't the physical type his father found attractive, and that he would have to disguise himself, he now planned for his father never to find out at all that he had taken his own son to bed. He figured that if he was the one who instigated things, no one could take his father to task for having misused his paternal authority.

Scorpius had grown up understanding that although his parents were friendly toward each other, neither found the other especially sexually attractive. Each of them on a regular basis had "special friends," who sometimes stayed the night and were introduced to Scorpius the next morning at the breakfast table. It had all seemed very natural, simply the way things were, when Scorpius was small, and it had taken him some years to realise first that not everyone's parents behaved this way, and second that all of the "special friends" were male, mostly dark-haired men. As he grew older, he realised that this must mean that his father had strongly homosexual leanings, despite having married and fathered Scorpius himself. It was interesting, too, that apparently both Scorpius's parents found the same type of man to be attractive. Once or twice the same man appeared first with one parent, and then some time later with the other.

His parents' unconventional approach to marriage notwithstanding, Scorpius didn't think that his father likely to accept being knowingly seduced by his own son.

Scorpius hardly knew himself why he found his father so powerfully attractive. Draco Malfoy did not have the same commanding presence that his father Lucius had, an aura of power that Scorpius found intimidating. But Draco was handsome in a world-weary way, still tall and slim and sleek, his chiselled aristocratic features scarcely touched by any lines of age, although his hair had begun to thin.

Perhaps the source of his attraction was the sense Scorpius had that his father possessed a core of energy hidden behind the carefully constructed facade, that he did live up to his name. Scorpius longed to rouse the sleeping dragon he felt sure lay concealed in his father.

He dared tell none of this to anyone, not even to Al, who would probably be horrified. Al was more daring than the average Ravenclaw—not surprising given that his parents and siblings were all Gryffindors—but he was essentially straight-laced at heart when it came to questions of sexuality and morality. He had no issues with Scorpius being gay, but the seduction of a parent would be well outside of his comfort zone.

The Polyjuice Potion was complete by November, well ahead of time. Scorpius made progress in his attempts at imitating a Canadian accent, until Al one day said he thought that was as good as Scorpius was likely to get, and certainly ought to be good enough to fool a stranger. Scorpius had even managed to learn from his mother when several of their friends' holiday parties were to be, and thus was able to plan his strategy with Al's assistance.

"What I would do..." Al looked at the list of dates and places. "I think I would go to the Zabinis' party and try to get into casual conversation with your bloke there, flirt some but not too much, and also try to learn the name of his current partner. Then at the Averys', smile and say hello and maybe catch his eye a few times, but otherwise stay further away, talk and flirt a bit with other men instead. Wait till the night of your own parents' party to go for the full-blown seduction. If it doesn't seem to be working that night, you could try again at the Notts', but that would probably be your last chance."

Scorpius nodded. "I've thought of something that ought to keep his partner in bed with a terrible head cold for three days, which would put him out of the way for both my parents' and the Notts' parties."

"How are you going to do that?" Al inquired

"Simple." Scorpius grinned. "I'll send him a parcel that appears to be from my bloke, his lover, with a note telling him that this isn't a Christmas present and please to open it immediately. I'll put something suitable in it—a pair of fine dragon-hide gloves perhaps—but anointed with a potion that will give him a nasty if temporary cold. Potions was always one of my dad's best subjects, and I have his old books."

There was really a delicious irony in the idea that he would be using one of his dad's recipes to forward the cause of his seduction, Scorpius thought. He'd never cared that much that he had been sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin—in fact that been what had first brought himself and Al together as friends, since Al had been expected to become a Gryffindor—except of course that it disappointed his parents. Perhaps he would have made a good Slytherin after all.

On the train ride home, all Scorpius could think about was the flask of Polyjuice in his trunk. He hoped he had brewed enough; it was only supposed to take a sip every hour to maintain the disguise, and he had practised with it, finding out that although the initial transformation was quite painful, second and later sips merely maintained his appearance. There was no further wrenching of skin and bone. Unfortunately there was also no cumulative effect. If he took a sip, then another half an hour later, the potion would wear off an hour after the second sip. Disappointing, but good to know for certain.

Platform 9 3/4 was crowded as ever with families greeting students.

"Good luck," said Al as they stepped off the train. "I want to know if this works, mind you; and not to have to wait until next term, either. Send me an owl."

"I will," promised Scorpius. "Here come our parents."

The Potters had already found Lily, and had her in tow as they came up to Al. His older brother James was nowhere to be seen, which surprised Scorpius until he remembered that Al had told him that James had a job at St. Mungo's, and was sharing a flat with someone, so he probably was at work.

"Hello, darling."

Scorpius turned to see his own parents, his mother with her arms outstretched to embrace him. He submitted to it, less embarrassed than he might have been since most of the other mums were doing the same.

"Good to see you, Scorpius." His father grasped his hand and clapped him on the shoulder. "I believe you've grown another inch or two, haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, I have," said Scorpius, sternly repressing his body's reaction to his father's touch.

He saw Draco nod, a little tight-lipped, at the Potters. Neither set of parents had been overjoyed by their sons' friendship. Mr and Mrs Potter nodded back before herding Al and Lily toward the exit.

Scorpius saw that his father's gaze lingered on the Potters' retreating forms, and abruptly it occurred to him that physically Harry Potter was very much the type that his father preferred. He wondered if there had ever been anything between them, or if his father had even wanted that. They had been in school together, Scorpius knew, but had been far from friends, although Draco acknowledged his debt to Harry Potter for saving his life during the Battle of Hogwarts.

All that was old history, though. Scorpius found a trolley for his trunk.

"Shall we go?"

He made sure to tell the house elf, Tuppy, that he would unpack his trunk himself, most of it at least, and not to touch it until he said it was all right.

She looked surprised, but obeyed, as he had known she would.

He hid the Polyjuice Potion under a pile of rarely-worn jumpers in the lowest drawer of his bureau, and went down to dinner with his parents.

"We'll eat with your grandparents tonight," his father said. "They want to see you, too."

That was to be expected. Malfoy Manor was large enough that his parents and his grandparents occupied separate wings, each with its own dining room and parlours as well as bedrooms, but Scorpius's family ate with the elder Malfoys at least twice a week.

"How are they?" Scorpius asked.

"Very much as usual," said his mother. Her voice was dry. She never said anything against her parents-in-law, but Scorpius had understood for years that she was not terribly fond of them, and would have preferred to live elsewhere were it not that Draco was required by the provisions of his grandfather Abraxas's will to reside on the family estate in order to inherit.

"They're well," Draco said quickly. "Your grandmother has taken up knitting lace, of all things. There are doilies and antimacassars everywhere now."

"I'll be sure to compliment her on them, then," said Scorpius.

Dinner was much as always. The conversation was somewhat stilted, all of the adults seeming glad to have Scorpius there so that they could ask how his N.E.W.T. year was going, and remark upon his still-increasing height.

"I daresay you will outstrip your father," said his grandfather with an air of satisfaction. "Next year, when you are finished with school, you will start coming with me to board meetings. the family must continue to be represented properly."

Scorpius nodded acknowledgment, but kept quiet. He had no more interest in sitting in stuffy meetings than his father had. In fact, his hope was to apprentice as an apothecary. Potions had always been his favourite subject, and he knew he would be bored out of his mind if he didn't have something regular to keep him occupied. He would have to talk with his father and mother about that soon, he knew, but he thought he would put it off until after he had received his marks for his N.E.W.T.s. Although he was reasonably confident that he would do more than well enough to secure an apprenticeship, best not to get into any arguments until it was necessary. He did remember to praise his grandmother's doilies, several of which adorned the table, and received fond smiles from her in return.

After dinner he read a book, a story that Al had recommended about some strange creatures called hobbits, while his parents engaged in desultory conversation. Evidently neither of them was meeting a "special friend" that night.

His mother mentioned the Zabinis' party, saying that she needed to get a new gown for the occasion. "One of last year's might do for the Averys', but Blaise and Paolina are always so fashionable."

"If you like, dear. I was thinking—we might take Scorpius with us this year," said his father.

"What?" Scorpius sat up straight, his book falling to the sofa next to him. If his parents made him attend these parties in his own person, all of his plans would be ruined.

"He'll just be bored, Draco," said his mother. "He's still in school, after all; next year will be soon enough."

"I suppose," said Draco. "Next year, then. Although I think we need to have more young people at these dos. Maintain the tradition."

Scorpius had a crawling suspicion that his mother objected to his attendance not because she really thought he would be bored—she made him do plenty of other equally dull things, after all—but because having a nearly-grown son along would underline her own age. Whatever her reasons, however, he was happy for her support.

A couple of days later, he used some of his precious Polyjuice to take on Algie's appearance and went to Madam Malkin's to purchase dress robes that would fit Algie's frame and flatter his colouring.

That necessary purchase made, Scorpius decided to indulge in another—a Christmas gift to himself. He slipped down one of the side streets off Diagon Alley and went into a shop that didn't look like one. It appeared to be an ordinary flat with a buzzer marked "Wilde". When he pressed the button, a disembodied voice asked, "Yes?"

Scorpius licked his lips and said, "Oscar sent me."

The door opened and Scorpius was admitted to the only gay Wizarding sex shop in Britain. He didn't dare to stay long, nor venture past the first room, but he found a bottle of lubricant that promised the slickest sensation he'd ever felt, and, feeling greatly daring, chose a pair of anal plugs in two sizes. The shop assistant recommended that he begin with the smaller one and work his way up, particularly if he planned to leave the plug in for any extended period.

Before leaving, Scorpius allowed his name to be placed on a mailing list; the shop promised that all its advertisements, as well as any purchases, would be discreetly wrapped. Scorpius thought he might order some magazines, once he was back at school.

On the night of the Zabinis' party, Scorpius pretended to be engrossed in his just-arrived copy of Which Broomstick when his parents were ready to leave. He waved them a casual goodbye without looking up. As soon as they were gone, however, he sprang into action.

He hurried to dose himself with Polyjuice, shuddering at the taste and wincing as his body shrank and contorted into Algie's appearance. He put on the deep scarlet velvet robes he'd bought at Madam Malkin's and checked his appearance in the mirror. He had also remembered to buy some cologne that was different from what his grandmother Narcissa had given him last Christmas, so that he would not even smell like himself, if his father paid any attention to that. His shoes, freshly polished by Tuppy, were ordinary enough that he didn't fear being them being recognised. Luckily he and Algie wore the same shoe size.

His toilet complete, Scorpius concentrated hard to Apparate to the front of the Zabinis' house. He had only been there once or twice before. Several other guests arrived at nearly the same moment, so he went in with them.

"Would sir like a drink?"

Scorpius looked down at the house-elf and thought quickly. He didn't dare get intoxicated. He might lose track of time and fail to take his next sip of Polyjuice on schedule. His flask of it nestled in a pocket.

"Tonic water. With a twist of lime," he said. That ought to look like an appropriately adult drink.

The house-elf bowed, winked out, and winked back in a moment later with a glass on the tray raised high above its head.

"The drink for sir," it squeaked, and Scorpius took the glass.

Too late he realised that most of the other guests were drinking wine. Well, he could have this and then think of something else. Perhaps he could quietly ask for pomegranate juice in a wine glass.

He felt awkward standing by himself, and decided he had better move around the room and see if he could talk with people. He didn't want to try to strike up a conversation with his father right away, although he could see Draco in another corner of the large reception room, next to Nigel, his current "special friend". Looking around, Scorpius realised that most of the guests were ten years or more older than he. There was just a sprinkling of younger folk. Perhaps he would try easing into conversation with someone closer to his own age first, although he would have to be careful not to pick someone he knew, lest he accidentally let slip his real identity.

He had spotted someone likely, and was moving in that direction when an older wizard intercepted him.

"Excuse me, but would you happen to be Luna Lovegood's son?"

Oh, no.

Scorpius turned to face the other man, and was relieved in a small way to see that he was being peered at short-sightedly.

Remembering to put on his Canadian accent, he said politely, "No, sir, although some of my ancestors were Lovegoods, so there may be a family resemblance. My name is Sebastian Marbot."

Scorpius shook his hand. He was surprised to find a Weasley at the Zabinis' party, although come to think of it, he remembered his father mentioning that this particular Weasley was a reliable Ministry fellow, and of course the Weasleys were purebloods. Even if that wasn't supposed to matter anymore—and it didn't, to Scorpius, or Al wouldn't be his best friend—some of the older generation still cared.

"Nice to meet you, too."

"You're from abroad, aren't you?" Percy asked him.

"Yes. From Winnipeg. I'm here to do an apprenticeship in creating and repairing magical equipment," said Scorpius.

"An excellent career." Percy nodded. "I've dealt with magical objects quite a bit myself, although from a trade standpoint, not production. Flying carpets, cauldrons, that sort of thing. Canadian cauldrons are top-quality, you know? Never any question of them being below regulation thickness."

Scorpius endured some minutes of Percy going on about cauldron bottoms before they were joined by Percy's wife Audrey, who changed the subject to the weather, much to Scorpius's relief. He had had the sense to read up on the climate of Winnipeg, so it was a topic on which he felt reasonably secure.

Eventually he managed to extricate himself from the Weasleys and start moving in his father's general direction. He gave his father several openly appreciative glances, and thought he detected some interest in return, Nigel's presence notwithstanding. As he moved, he chatted—briefly, to his relief after the Weasleys—with several men, always conscious of whether Draco was watching.

When he was only a few feet away, he caught his father's eye once more and smiled. Draco smiled back—surely flirtatiously, Scorpius thought—and made a gesture which Scorpius interpreted as being a signal for him to come closer. Nigel had moved off and was talking to some other guests.

"Sebastian Marbot," Scorpius introduced himself when he was near enough.

Scorpius shook his head. "I've only been in England a couple of weeks; I'm to do an apprenticeship in Dolohov's Magical Apparatus shop."

"So you're out of school, then?"

"Oh yes. For a year now," said Scorpius, blithely adding two years to the age of the body he wore. Or was it three? He rather thought that in Canada schooling might last a year longer, but he had failed to check on that detail. "I imagine you're quite familiar with the better parts of Wizarding society? I felt lucky to be invited here, given that I'm a stranger. I hope no one thinks I've gate crashed."

He tossed in that last statement to disarm any suspicion, assuming that anyone who had really come to a party uninvited would avoid the subject.

"I shouldn't think so." Draco looked at him speculatively. "You have a pureblood look about you."

"I believe my four-times-great-grandfather on my father's side was a Lovegood, sir. Or was he the Longbottom? That far back, I get them confused," said Scorpius easily. "The rest of the family is mostly French, Guérards and Pasquiers and Marbots; they're all in Montréal. We've only been in Winnipeg for fifty years or so."

He hadn't completely lost his father's attention with his recital of his fictitious ancestry, but Draco's interest was clearly waning. Better get him to talk about himself.

"And you, sir?" Scorpius added. "You have a pureblood look too, if I may venture to say so."

"The Malfoys reached Britain in the eleventh century," Draco told him, "and not one ever married a Muggle or a half blood."

"Impressive," murmured Scorpius. He took a half step closer to Draco and smiled, lowering his eyelashes and looking up at his father through them. "And good looks, too. I hope we'll have a chance to meet again, but I suppose I'd better not monopolise you just now. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy."

As he moved away back into the crowd, Scorpius regretted that he had had to leave so quickly. He had realised that it was nearly time to take another swig of his Polyjuice, and he didn't dare let it go too long. Perhaps he would have another chance to chat with his father later tonight.

Unobtrusively he handed his glass to a house-elf and asked it where he might find the toilet. There he could sip from the flask in privacy. Disguise renewed, he continued to make the rounds of the party, coming to the conclusion that these events were as dull as he had always thought they would be. Still, a few hours of boredom ought to be worth it if he could lure his father into bed. He still wanted that, no question. Just standing next to Draco, unrecognised, and flirting with him as mildly as he had been doing had aroused him.

To his regret, he managed only another few words with Draco that evening. Nigel had reappeared and glued himself to Draco's side. Scorpius decided to view that as a good sign, if Nigel had seen him talking to Draco and become nervous. He certainly shot Scorpius several dirty looks when Scorpius said, "Hello, again," to his father.

Draco seemed pleased to see him, although with Nigel there they said little of consequence.

Soon after that, Scorpius left. He didn't dare risk not being at home when his parents returned.

The next morning he wrote Al, as he had promised.

Dear Al,

Everything looks promising so far. I spoke with my bloke twice, and the second time his boyfriend seemed jealous. Otherwise, let me tell you, it was a boring party.

The Polyjuice tastes horrible but it works fine. I had to sneak off into the bathroom to drink it so no one would wonder about the flask.

I'll play it cool tomorrow at the Averys', as you suggested. Actually—how about if I come over to your house tomorrow afternoon? We could do some Christmas shopping maybe, and I'll just bring the Polyjuice and my dress robes with me and go to the party from there. Let me know if that won't work for you. Otherwise I'll Floo over about 1.

Scorpius

Thinking about the previous night, remembering the way his father had looked at him, made Scorpius wish he didn't have to wait for another four days or more. He decided to try out the plugs he'd purchased at Wilde's, and dug them out from where he'd hidden them next to the Polyjuice.

He squirted some of the lubricant onto his palm and spread it along the length of his prick. As advertised, it was extremely slick, and warmed quickly, even giving a bit of a tingling sensation. Scorpius supposed that was due to the antiseptic qualities it also promised. He didn't use it on his arse at the moment; instead he concentrated hard and performed a wandless version of a lube and stretch charm, just for the practise. It would be useful to have that mastered in case he needed it with his father. His arsehole felt a bit funny afterward, but a quick check in the mirror showed that it looked fine, and the smaller plug slid in easily. He tested the larger one briefly, thinking that it was closer to the size of an actual prick, and was able to take it with no trouble as well.

For now, however, he returned to the smaller plug. It felt delightful in his arse, and Scorpius sat on his bed rocking back and forth as he stroked his cock and bollocks in the same rhythm. He imagined that it was his father's hand, his father's prick, and whimpered with longing, squirming to press the plug deeper inside himself. From across the room he could see himself in the mirror; if he squinted, he could imagine that it was his father he saw instead. Alternately fantasising that his father was fucking him and that he was returning the favour, Scorpius came, his arsehole contracting hard around the base of the plug as the spunk shot from his prick onto the duvet.

Utterly relaxed, he let himself roll over onto his side, after a few moments reaching a languid hand to pull out the plug. He cleaned up with a quick spell and tucked the plugs and the bottle of lube away again.

He pretended mild indifference to his parents' conversation that lunchtime, although he was secretly thrilled when his mother teased his father gently about the dark and handsome young stranger she'd seen him talking with. She had to be referring to Scorpius himself.

"He was a nice young fellow," said Draco. "From somewhere in Canada, he said. Good pureblood family, if mostly French. Here for an apprenticeship of some sort."

Scorpius's mother smiled knowingly. "I expect you feel you could teach him a good deal yourself... or perhaps I could?"

"Mm." Draco refused to reply further, which Scorpius was almost certain meant that his mother was correct but that Draco didn't want to admit it in front of their son. And it definitely was him. Fantastic.

The next day Scorpius went with Al to Diagon Alley. They did some Christmas shopping, but Scorpius also bought a gift for Nigel. After having met his father's latest "special friend", who was less athletic than most of them, Scorpius decided that a tiepin rather than a pair of dragon-hide gloves would be a more suitable present. He could anoint the cotton in the box as well as the pin itself with the Common Cold Serum he had made to ensure that Nigel would be sufficiently exposed to it to feel unwell.

Al helped him brush the tiepin with the potion, being careful not to get any on themselves, and then wrap it. They used a Dicta-Quill to ensure the handwriting would be unrecognisable. Al thought up the scheme of having the Potter family owl take the parcel not directly to Nigel, but to the post office. Scorpius used Spellotape to stick on several Sickles for the postage, and it was done.

Then Scorpius drank a gulp of Polyjuice and changed into the fancy robes he'd brought along. His plan was to stop back at the Potters' to pick up both his ordinary clothes and the Christmas presents he'd bought earlier that day. Al promised to wait up if necessary, although since the plan was for Scorpius to flirt even more mildly than he had done on the previous occasion—"Leave him wanting more," Al said—he expected it wouldn't be that late when he returned.

The Averys' party was as dull as the Zabinis', with many of the same guests, although the food and drink were rather better. Not that he dared drink anything alcoholic. He murmured his request for pomegranate juice in a wine glass to a house-elf that he guessed had been hired in for the occasion, and looked somewhat wistfully at the punch bowl, full of a bright green concoction sending elaborate curls of steam into the air.

He could indulge in a few of the titbits that the house elves were offering, however, and nibbled on a flaky cheese twist as he waited for his drink. After that he began to circulate around the room, looking for his father. That silvery fair hair, so much like Scorpius's own, was difficult to miss. Draco didn't seem to have arrived yet. With an internal sigh, Scorpius made the best of it by trying to guess how many wizards in the room were under thirty; none looked as young as himself, that was certain. He managed to strike up a conversation with one, Lionel Meriton, who seemed to be in his late twenties. They debated the merits of the various classic Wizarding rock bands, with Scorpius supporting Stubby Boardman and the Hobgoblins and Lionel arguing for the Weird Sisters instead.

Scorpius managed to excuse himself before just before he was due to take his next dose of Polyjuice, and found a bathroom in which he could sip discreetly from his flask.

Returning to the main party, he was relieved to spot his father's familiar profile not far away. So intent was he on reaching Draco that he quite literally bumped into his mother, jostling her so that her drink spilled.

She brushed off his stammered apology with a laugh, putting a light hand on his wrist and effectively preventing his escape while she chattered at him. With horror, Scorpius realised she was flirting. Well, he had seen for himself in the past that the same type of man attracted both his parents, hadn't he? And he was disguised as that sort of man. Somehow, though, it seemed far worse to have his mother, in whom he had no interest of the sort whatsoever, flirting with him, than it did to enjoy similar banter with his father.

"Draco?" His mother gave a tiny wave that caught her husband's attention and drew him to her. "Draco, this is Sebastian. From Canada, didn't you say, darling?"

Scorpius's carefully Canadian-accented, "Yes ma'am, from Winnipeg," overlapped Draco's, "I believe we met the other night at the Zabinis'."

"That's right," Scorpius replied, letting his gaze travel upward along the length of his father's body to settle on his face. "It's a pleasure to meet you again."

Perhaps Draco gave his wife a signal that Scorpius didn't see or recognise, for she murmured something and left them together.

"A pleasure to see you again, too," said Draco, with an appreciative glance at Scorpius.

"I took the liberty of trying to learn a little bit about you, Mr Malfoy," said Scorpius. "You intrigued me, you see."

"Oh?" Draco's eyebrows rose. "And what did you learn about me?"

"I discovered that your family has the knack of..." Scorpius paused a brief instant, "coming out on top. I admire someone that." He took a sip from his wine glass, his eyes never leaving his father's.

"Do you, now," said his father softly. "I shall hold... that... in mind."

"I hope not only in mind," murmured Scorpius with a smile.

"Not only, no." Draco seemed about to say more, when Nigel appeared at his elbow.

Scorpius took advantage of his father's lover's presence to give Draco one last inviting glance, and slipped off into the crowd. He wanted desperately to stay, as things seemed to be moving along well, but Al had advised him not to make a serious move until the third night. Al's advice ought to be good. He'd managed to secure Mari Cadwallader as his girlfriend and even someone with as confirmed a disinterest in girls as Scorpius had to admit that Mari was a stunner in looks, who had brains and good nature to boot. Mari could have had her pick of any boy in their year, but Al had got her.

Scorpius stayed at the Averys' for a while longer, enjoying the delicious food, but primarily concerned to get himself into conversations with a couple of other good-looking older men whom he suspected might also be gay. He didn't flirt with any of them so much as to make promises he had no intention of keeping, just enough to sharpen any sense of rivalry his father might have.

When he returned to the Potters', Al was waiting.

"How did it go? Was he there? Did you manage to talk to him?"

"Yes he was there, I talked to him, and it went well." Scorpius grinned. "I really think this plan is going to work."

"Good." Al flopped on his bed and watched Scorpius. "How soon will the Polyjuice wear off?"

"It should be about ten more minutes."

"It's weird, you know, to see Algie standing there but know it's really you," Al remarked.

"Yeah. I'm getting used to wearing his body, but it will never feel quite right. I kind of wish that—" he caught himself in time, "this bloke didn't have such particular taste in men physically. It would be nice to know he thought I was attractive in my own person, but that could cause other problems."

"Like what?"

"Oh, well," Scorpius paused. He could hardly say if he recognised me as his son I'm pretty sure he would refuse to have sex with me. "If he recognised me, he'd know that I'm still in school and might not be interested," he said lamely.

"But you're of age," Al pointed out.

"I know, but the school thing is a big line to cross for some people." Scorpius shrugged. "And I don't want to wait. Anyhow, it doesn't matter since he only seems to go for the more muscular, dark haired type."

"So, you'll pull this bloke and get the yen out of your system, and then move on to someone who'll like you as you, physically," said Al contemplatively. "Or—wait a minute—if you timed everything just right, you could let the Polyjuice wear off while you were with him. See what happens."

"I don't think that would be a good idea."

"You weren't planning on more than a one night stand, were you? So it shouldn't matter if he were upset afterward. And who knows? Maybe he would like the real you, too."

Appropriately enough, just then the Polyjuice wore off and Scorpius went through the momentary agony of resuming his own shape. He shuddered.

"Don't think I want to have that happen with someone else around to see it," he commented. "I can't think it looks very attractive. It certainly feels awful enough."

Al shrugged. "It didn't bother me, although of course I was expecting it." He chewed his lip for a moment and eyed Scorpius thoughtfully. "Do you happen to know what House this fellow was in, if he went to Hogwarts? It just occurred to me that a Slytherin might well admire the cunningness of your strategy, or a Ravenclaw its cleverness."

"Maybe he would, but I'm not sure I want to risk that," said Scorpius, avoiding giving an answer to the question of House. "Well, I suppose I'd better get back; my parents knew I was visiting you tonight, but if I beat them home then I won't have any questions to answer."

He quickly changed back into his own clothes and tucked the dress robes into a carrier bag with his Christmas purchases.